Holiday Madness
by Sneaky Wenches
Summary: Tis the season for holiday cheer, mistletoe, and a race to see who can get Edward to blush first. Complete!
1. Chapter One

_Disclaimer: We, the Sneaky Wenches, do not in any way, shape, or form own Fullmetal Alchemist or Dr. Seuss._

Chapter One: And So It Begins

There were few things in the world that got under the thick, unblemished skin of Colonel Roy Mustang. Crooked supervisors, crying babes, unclean windows, short blonde underlings; none could ruffle that cool, darkly handsome exterior. Many wondered just how a man called the Flame Alchemist could be so calm, so debonair, so… so… _Mustang_.

Indeed, his own crew wondered how such a man came to be the head of their outfit. Not that any of them would dare to wonder too often in his presence. Still, regardless of how high they all regarded the Colonel, they would all agree that he was never one to be upset by anything, save one tiny, insignificant thing.

He _hated_ Christmas.

Oh sure, the women were more plentiful in their cute winter outfits, and the dates got cheaper as looking at various Christmas lights for the price of hot cocoa replaced expensive dinners and theater tickets. The only good part about the theater was that whole snogging bit that inevitably occurred once the lights dimmed, in his humble opinion.

Nor was he ever truly nervous about that horrid C-word the fairer sex was apt to bring up around the holidays; any looking for a truly serious relationship never quite made it into his little black book anyways. No, one could not attribute such hatred to the women in East City – much to the dismay of his muttering subordinates.

To tell the truth, it was never really one thing in particular that set off his ire. More, it was a combination of all those small nuances that made this particular holiday "festive". Large wreaths adorning all the doors, making all the snow-covered houses dreadfully alike in the moonlight; not to mention how those gaudy shrubs made it absolutely impossible to properly knock the old brass knockers.

Fresh eggnog, thick enough to drown a whale or filled with so much brandy that one might as well drink the liquor straight from the bottle. Carolers – the brats – bringing their agonizingly off-key snores and infecting the entire bloody city with whatever cold or flu happened to be passing by.

Oh, and the mistletoe! While admittedly the least annoying of the season, it also required a great deal of stealth tactics to avoid being taken by surprise and ending up with someone terribly embarrassing… like Hughes, for example. There was a very good reason that peon Havoc was still running all the less than savory errands. No, it was simply not worth taking the chance, especially with _that_ group. Any stray bundles of the cursed weed were immediately tracked down and the culprit suitably punished.

Luckily for the Colonel, he was not plagued with any of the "Holiday Horrors" at the moment. Yes, Roy Mustang had successfully managed to secure himself in the relative comfort of his office. Safe, warm, holiday free, and… dreadfully boring.

Boring. Boring. Boring. It was a Tuesday afternoon and the Colonel was without an excuse to leave early. No cute date wearing just enough to make sure she did not freeze waiting with baited breath for his arrival. Dateless on a lousy Tuesday, though never on a Friday or Saturday regardless of lousiness; his reputation simply could not handle such a thing.

He shifted slightly in the chair. Hawkeye had placed all his work ever-so-neatly in the outbox on his desk, obviously not anticipating the day's lousiness. A small shortcoming; he would not fault her, even if it did mean he could not even feign working. Ever since the sign on his inbox had _accidentally_ landed on his trash can, the woman simply did not seem to trust his organizational abilities.

The empty black tray gleamed, as lonely as its owner. Surely there was someon- err, something to do, but no matter how many times he ordered the bloody thing to reveal itself, it remained just beyond the Colonel's grasp. The stupid, annoying, incommodious, stagnant, vexatious-

The phone rang.

-blessed, miraculous, fortunate, kind divinity! Startled out of his lethargic state, twin gloved hands scrambled for the receiver. Clearing his throat in an effort to appear calm in the face of, well, something to do, he gracefully raised the piece to his ear. "Mustang." Perfect. No sign of boredom.

"Hey howdy hey, partner!" Oh dear God. Either the heavens were shining down upon him, or the Devil himself was having a laughing fit at his expense. To be listless enough that the prospect of getting his ear talked off by Maes My-Pathetic-Life-Revolves-Around-My-Daughter Hughes actually _brightened_ his mood… Mustang had apparently found a new high for his low.

"Any news?"

"I just got my last roll of pictures developed from Alicia-chan's birthday party! All dressed up in that little pink dress Gracia spent all of November working on-"

"Hughes…"

"-and those ickle shoes I gave her with little silver bells on the bows! You should've heard her jingling around the yard chasing after the neighbor's cat-"

"Hughes."

"-and the double-tier cake that we got at the bakers down the street! I got a picture of her blowing out the candles too! She's growing up so fast… I didn't even have to help her this ye-"

"HUGHES!"

"-ar… Huh? Is the something wrong, Colonel?"

Ah, annoyance. How he had missed thee. Then again, anything was preferable to his previous state of boredom, he supposed. Although, it probably was not the best idea to inform his long-winded colleague of such. Sometimes you simply had to narrow down your question and repeat yourself. "How are things in Central?"

"Quiet as a Christmas mouse. The entire city's quieted down for the holidays, as usual. Nobody wants to cause trouble at this time of year."

Damn. "Nothing?" He allowed a bit of hope to enter his voice.

"Nope. Nothing going on. Even the pick-pockets have dwindled down to one or two a week."

Damn it all. He really did not want to have to resort to extreme measures, but the birds in the tree outside his window had flown away in search of a mid-afternoon snack and Mustang was left without an end to the blank stillness outside. He leaned towards the window, wishing for something other than the next inevitable "Alecia-chan saga".

Blinking, he looked at the small clock on his desk. The line had been silent for five minutes. '_Five minutes!_' The entire time he had known the man, he had never been silent for so long. Not that Roy Mustang was worried. Of course not. He was simply a bit… concerned. Right.

"Hughes? You still there?"

"Yup."

"… You're quiet today."

"Hmm?"

"Never mind." Blast. He really was going to have to ask. "So… how is Gracia?"

"She's doing well."

Silence. Mustang waited for another spiel, but it never came. Another minute passed before he spoke again. "And Alecia-chan?"

"Alecia-chan is as cute as ever."

Silence. Again. Realization dawned slowly upon the Colonel, shoulders relaxing as the threat of Alecia-chan sagas crawled to a halt. "Went to her mother's again, did she?"

"Yeah. Took my precious Alecia-chan with her too." A hesitation. "Permission to speak freely sir?"

"Of course. I doubt that anyone's listening in on a conversation as dull as this one."

"No kidding. I was bored out of my mind when I called you and that still hasn't changed."

"So what makes you think that something might be going on in the forlorn East City if there's nothing going on in Central?"

"Good point."

Silence. Bloody hell and Christmas wreaths, even the annoyance was fading into boredom.

"Have you heard from Edward-kun recently?"

"Alphonse sent a message saying that he and Fullmetal are on their way back to East, unsuccessful as usual."

"Did they manage to break anything, at least?"

"Not a single damn city. Either they're getting better at it, or worse. I can't tell which." Not even a mess to clean up, or a political scandal to rant about… how in the world had they managed that? The God of Destruction must have been taking a nap.

"Are they going to pass through Central?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow at noon." Mustang yawned. "You going to meet them at the station?"

"I just might. It's always entertaining teasing Edward-kun." That earned a lazy smirk from the Colonel.

Silence. Another conversation topic that failed. Talking about Fullmetal usually took ten minutes or more, random insults and rants aside, but this time there was nothing for them to even speculate about. No mess. No cleanup. No buildings burnt or transmuted down to water jugs. No cities complaining about the military and it's pint-sized alchemist.

"Has Hawkeye started putting up holiday decorations yet?"

Grunt. "So far there's only one wreath gaudily tacked to the outside of the office door." And it could stay there since he only had to see it once when he came into the office in the morning. He was not exactly that inclined to risk Hawkeye's wrath. Sometimes that woman could be nearly as devious as the Colonel himself. Nearly.

"Any plans for the holiday?" Still the same bored tone. Mustang could just picture Hughes slouched in his desk chair, feet propped up on the desk and grasshopper hair just within decent constraints.

"No, no plans… " Mustang trailed off, ready to allow his brain to hibernate for the rest of the conversation. Not a single, solitary plan-

Wait.

A smile slowly began creeping across the Colonel's face. Yes… a plan. A good plan. A plan that would provide hours upon hours of entertainment to endure the unpalatable holiday cheer that was spreading across the city. The wheels began turning and the smile grew devious.

Then he got an idea! An awful idea! The Colonel got a wonderful, awful idea!

"Roy?" asked Hughes with more than a note of concern. Maybe insanity traveled on phone lines. "Something happen?"

Mustang was silent a moment longer, letting the final pieces slip into place. "I just had an idea." He started to smirk.

"Oh really?" responded Hughes with a hint of interest. The Colonel's plans were always interesting. "Is it something I can take part in?"

Mustang was grinning. "Yes. Go to the train station at noon tomorrow. We'll start from there."

This was going to be a lot of fun.


	2. Chapter Two

_Warning: We realize there might be a few inside jokes here, but don't worry, no cacti were harmed in the process. Anyone who catches the (purposefully) un-disclaimed reference will receive a merry e-card! Good luck!_

_Disclaimer: We do not own FMA, the Wizard of Oz, or Winnie the Pooh._

Chapter Two: And So It Ends

It was not a very good plan. In fact, the entire idea was a bunch of bull. As plans went, it ranked somewhere between "ha-ha" and "not-in-your-life"... at least, according to Edward Elric. The entire idea was completely and utterly useless, and obviously the brain child of one too many eggnogs down the Colonel's throat. Edward did not know which was worse; the fact that (what seemed like) the entire city had made a bet to see who could get him to blush first, or the fact that he had actually fallen for it. He would not be surprised if Picture Boy had something to do with the entire mess as well. To think that he had been completely manipulated by those lamebrains!

A shiny, Rudolph-red Edward stormed down the halls of East City's military complex towards the only spot in the entire damn city that he could get away from that Knuckleheaded, Feather-brained Colonel and his half-baked chickens. The library. Rows upon rows of quiet solitude, far away from anything that snapped its fingers or flashed its camera. Just the thought of his haven was enough to tone his coloring down to a mere "Christmas ribbon" red.

From somewhere far behind him he heard the tell-tale sounds of Alphonse hurrying to catch up. Crimson Boy scowled. He just knew that boy had something to do with this as well. The entire world was against him! Was it too much to ask for a moment of peace during the holidays? The sounds of quick apologies to oblivious passerby grew louder as Edward's scowl grew deeper.

Stopping himself from kicking open the large wooden doors and slamming them shut was a close thing, but he really had no desire to be banned from his oasis until _next_ Christmas came around. Channeling his anger into _gently_ closing the door behind him, the blond alchemist promptly made his way to the older and less-frequented sections. He needed to settle his emotions, now that he finally had his answers as to why it seemed like the entire city had gone mad since he had arrived.

It was a stupid, obnoxious, immature, callow, nauseating, sleazy plan, created by twin meatheads of one-brain-celled capacity.

But even Edward had to admit that it had made a damn good bet.

Sitting at the small reference table he and Alphonse had partitioned at the back, Edward began going over the annoying events of the past week that had led to today's horrendous performance. It had all started on the train from Central to East City...

-

_Train to East City - 12:21pm_

_... 7 days till Christmas_

-

"Ed-kun! Al-kun! Happy Christmas!"

The two boys in question looked up just in time to see Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes careening down the aisle towards the little bench-seats they currently occupied. Edward stuck out a foot in hopes of stopping the man, but alas, it went un-tripped-upon. The sight of the grasshopper-man sprawled head over feet against the seat behind him, however, brought a smile to his face. It must have been an even more boring than usual mission if Edward was actually _glad_ to be heading back to East Bunghole City. It was not home - nowhere ever was - but they had become rather fond of the tawdry city. Nonetheless, Edward's unusually cheerful mood did not go unnoticed by Hughes, who meticulously filed the information away under "stuff-to-use-later".

"Good afternoon, Hughes-san!" Alphonse piped in cheerfully, once he was sure there was no lasting damage to the man. Edward even managed to add in a very innocent-sounding 'Hey!' - unusual behaviour, to say the least. "What are you talking about, Hughes-san? Christmas isn't for another week!"

"Is it now?" Hughes asked with an embarrassed laugh. "I guess I'm getting ahead of myself again. Oh!" His smile widened gleefully, "Hey, Ed-kun? Want to see the pictures of my Alecia-chan's last birthday party?"

Twin mental groans could be heard mentally all the way to Rizenbul. Edward could practically _feel_ the Colonel smirking, cleaning his windows for the seventh time that day. "N-no, Hughes-san... that's really not-"

"Wonderful!"

Piles of photographs seemed to appear out of thin air, flying from Hughes' hands to Edward's to Alphonse's, and on down the car to the little old lady with the blue polka-dot umbrella sitting by the third window. Edward's last thought was that for someone who had never studied alchemy, Hughes was positively exceptional at turning ordinary objects, such as air, into photographs. Then everything went pink.

"Here's Alicia-chan with her birthday cake - oh! Gracia baked one for you Ed-kun, for when you got back. I think it's still whole... anyway! This is when my darling Alicia was getting ready to blow out the candles..." Bright pink and yellow spots began to permanently lodge themselves in Edward's vision. There were pictures of birthday cakes, birthday balloons, birthday presents, birthday bows, birthday party bags, birthday suits, birthday cand- _Hey. Wait a second..._

Unfortunately, by the time it registered in Edward's brain exactly what he had been looking at, the picture had already passed from his pile to Alphonse's innocuous hands. Edward's eyes widened exponentially as he realized there were already more than one such picture already scattered about the Alphonse's pile. His own embarrassment was swallowed by the need to shield his younger brother from something he should probably not see quite yet. He made a grab for the pile, but alas, Alphonse already had one of the pictures in his hand and.. wow. Who knew that a suit of armor could turn such a bright shade of red?

"Hu-hu-HUGHES-SAN! Wh-what is this?"

"Ah, that? Heh heh.." The slightly blushing paparazzi coughed. "That's my Alicia-chan in her birthday suit. Oh? Are you looking at my precious Alicia-chan, Al-kun? She's much too young for you!" Hughes snatched the photo from Alphonse's hands, completely ignoring the growing looks from the other passengers. "Much too young! She's not ready to leave her Daddy yet, you cradle-robber you!"

"B-but I... I didn't mean... That is..." The reddish tint had spread from Alphonse's face down to just past his arm guards.

"No, no! I won't hear of it!"

"But I didn't-"

Hughes' eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you saying my Alicia-chan isn't _good_ enough for you?"

"N-no! She's very... um..."

"Then you _are_ after her!"

"No!"

"Don't deny your feelings, Alphonse Elric! You can't fool me!"

_"Enough!"_ Edward's voice finally broke through their bickering. Or rather, accusing and denying. Either way, the elder Elric brother had had quite enough of it. His earlier mild cheerfulness at returning to East City and annoying the Colonel had dissipated into a hair-splitting headache. If his "superior" was not going to handle things, he sure as hell would. A finger pointed at the Lieutenant Colonel, then changed directions again to point down the aisle. "You go pick up your damn pictures before you traumatize someone else. Alphonse, apologize to Hughes."

"But I didn't do anyth-"

_"Now." _The glint in the blonde's eyes must have set off the self-preservation instincts of the two men, for Alphonse promptly apologized - and received a sort of apology as well - and Hughes set about picking up his precious pictures before someone got it into their mind to steal one of his treasured photographs.

Returning to his seat a few minutes later, Hughes gave Edward an ear-to-ear grin. "Welcome back, you two. We missed you."

"We missed you too." _Yeah, like a ten inch thorn in our sides._

"Oh, that reminds me! I have a couple pictures of my Alicia-chan's first swimming lesson..." Just before the world went pink and blue for a second time, twin groans could be heard over the rustling of glossy paper.

It was going to be a long train ride.

-

_East City, Military Headquarters - 4:13pm_

_... 6 days till Christmas_

-

Edward, Alphonse, and Hughes made their way down the maze of hallways to the closet that had been designated as Colonel Mustang's office, bickering off and on to keep themselves entertained. The weather had been horrid, and the heat of the main building was much appreciated. Alphonse had acquired a long string of tinsel from somewhere, which was currently dangling merrily around his shoulders. Hughes could have sworn that a few of the strands looked like the remains of sliced-up photographs, but with the gloomy lighting of the hallway, he could not be completely sure.

"So has Hawkeye managed to get the Colonel into the holiday spirit this year?"

Hughes snorted. "It will be a cold day in hell before he utters so much as a "Merry Christmas!" to anyone who's not in that little black book of his."

Edward smirked as he spotted the large, gaudy wreath that Hawkeye had upgraded to that morning. "Oh, but it would be worth it to see his expression. A picture like that would be blackmail material for at least the next few years." Alphonse reached to open the door, but it moved on its own just before he could turn the knob.

"Heya fellas! Welcome back!" Second Lieutenant Havoc's cheerful voice floated down the hallway as he emerged from the other side of the door. The three froze. Havoc's coat trailed off one shoulder, a cigarette in his mouth as usual, but... as Havoc left the haven of the door he waved to them, continuing down the (thankfully deserted) hall.

Stark. Bloody. Naked.

The three stood in terrified silence for a moment, the only sounds coming from the twitching of their eyebrows. Alphonse was the first to break the fragile sanity, words trembling only slightly from shock.

"Hey, nii-san?"

"... Yeah?"

"I'm never opening the door again, okay?"

"... Yeah."

-

_Colonel Mustang's Outer Office - 11:03 am_

_... 5 days till Christmas_

-

"Ed-kun! Alphonse! Get over here! I just got a new shipment!" Breda tugged none-too-gently on the shorter alchemist's sleeve and dragged him over to where the group of minions had congregated.

"What new shipment?" Attempting to contain the urge to break Breda's arm, Edward shook himself free.

"_The_ shipment, Ed-kun." Havoc - _Don't look!_ - grinned from over the top of what looked like last month's issue of _East City Magazine_. Edward could practically see "dirty thoughts" written across their foreheads. Farman slipped Edward a magazine with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Curious, Edward took the magazine and quickly flicked through the pages.

Edward glared at Farman. "Is this some kind of joke?" The cover, _101 Knitting Patterns_, obviously did not match the interior.

The three men shared equally perverted grins. "Still too young to look at the big girls, Ed-kun?" Havoc taunted.

"Bite me." Edward promptly whacked Havoc over the head with his magazine, turning sharply on his heels and pulling a very confused Alphonse out the door with him. "_You're_ the one who needs to grow up!"

Frowning, Breda picked up the magazine and flipped open to the page Edward had been reading. Sweat began to form at the edges of his forehead. "Uh, guys...?"

Instead of this month's swimsuit issue of _Kitty Girls_, a brand new copy of _Winnie the Pooh_ stared up at them. "Whoops..."

... Somewhere, on the other end of the city, a nine year old boy had just found his favourite picture of a cat.

-

_Dorm Cafeteria - 7:32 am_

_... 4 days till Christmas_

-

The breakfast rush was just getting underway as Edward sat down to eat, wondering just what today's "special seasoning" was that gave his scrambled eggs their unique shading. Apparently even the kitchen staff was getting into the holiday spirit; the patrons now got their food poisoning in red and green instead of yellow. The events of the past few days were beginning to grate at his ever-thinning patience. At least the Perverted Trio was avoiding looking him in the eye now. Maybe the day was looking up.

"Good morning, Fullmetal!"

... Or maybe not. Looking up, he attempted to hide a wince as Colonel Mustang himself greeted him with a more-than-suspiciously-large grin. Several things were wrong with this picture. One, Edward had not seen the Colonel arrive anywhere close to the office, (and this included all military related buildings save his own quarters), until at least nine. Two, he never, _ever_ said good morning. To anyone. Period. And three... that grin just looked scary.

"Morning, Colonel." He refused to stand, instead turning back to his slowly-melting eggs. A solid pat on the back, however, nearly send him flying nose-first into said eggs.

"Good job yesterday, Fullmetal! Well done in handling the situation." Edward blinked. Who was this man, and what did he do with the Colonel?

"Uh... thanks?"

Mustang nodded, looking to be on the brink of hysterical laughter - what about, Edward had not the slightest clue - and chortled himself down the line, waving to Edward. "Have a good day, Fullmetal. Don't let them... kick you around." This time Edward was very glad he was spared the look on the Colonel's face. Deciding against the eggs, he picked up is tray and made his way towards the doors. No use in attempting to eat now; the Colonel was particularly gifted when it came to making Edward want to lose his lunch.

Snickers and half-covered laughs followed him throughout the morning, causing Edward to frown. What in the world was up with this city? He could have sworn that people had been trying to kick him all bloody morning, but they always slinked away before he could catch them in the act. Finally tired of it all, Edward stepped into the nearest bathroom to attempt to calm his growing temper.

Looking at himself squarely in the mirror, Edward was surprised to see a piece of white sticking out from his shoulder. Reaching behind him, he yanked the offending thing off... and realized why people had been snickering at him all morning...

_Kick me,_

_I'm a chibi!_

"COLONEL!"

The door banged open, a furious mini-whirlwind Edward-look-alike making its way through the corridors. As it passed Farman and Fury on its way into the inner office, they could only remark with some amusement:

"Brick-red."

"Nope, not yet. He still has lots more to work on."

-

_Main Building Hallway - 11:13am_

_... 3 days till Christmas_

-

Poking his head around the corner, Edward let out a small sigh of relief upon seeing the hallway deserted. He hesitated for a moment more before deciding it was safe enough to continue. The Elric Brothers had been "home" for a grand total of five days and already Edward was itching for a new assignment. Preferably one that would take him away from here. Far, far away. He had taken to peeking around corners and slinking from shadow to shadow, attempting in vain to avoid the Colonel and his stupid men in blue tights.

He was nearly halfway when he heard a door opening behind him. Cursing his own luck, he attempted to make a run for it. Maybe if he was really, really fast, he could round the corner before they spotted him. Yeah, right.

"Edward-kun!"

Kicking himself for not sprinting down the hall in the first place, Edward turned around and nearly ran into the smiling faces of Fury and Breda. Taking a cautious step back, he gave them his best I'm-busy-go-away smile. "Fury-san... Breda-san... I'm just a little bit-"

"Y-yes, you a-are, aren-n't you?" Edward blinked at Fury's half-stuttered words.

"Haaa?"

"Y-you're just a l-little guy, taking on all that r-responsibility." Edward blinked again, attempting to make some kind of sense from the situation. Why, if he did not know better, he would say that Fury was attempting to... to... _tease_ him? One thing was for sure; the sight of Fury attempting to be intimidating while fearing the wrath of the elder Elric brother was a very, very strange sight indeed.

Edward chose to ignore the situation. Completely. "Did you need me for something, Sergeant Major?"

"Yes, I..." Fury took a deep breath, apparently steeling his nerves for what came next. "Move over, Shorty!"

Silence.

"Um... Fury-san?" The tic on Edward's eye grew more prominent by the millisecond. Fury tried not to look like he had a death wish, really he did.

"Y-yes, Edward-ch-chibi-san?"

"Fury-san, you're as tall as I am."

"... Oh."

-

_Balcony Overlooking Dormitory Entrance - 3:25 pm_

_... 2 days till Christmas_

-

"Hurry up! He's coming!"

"Shut up and help me lift it then!" Muffled curses and grunts could be heard throughout the tiny courtyard, announcing their position for anyone who cared enough to listen.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Fury asked, wary of the large bucket the other three were attempting to hold steady and out of sight. Being the lookout was quickly proving to not be one of the brightest things he had done this season.

"It will as long as you hush up and make sure we don't accidentally drop this on the President." Havoc answered, hands full with his side of the titanic canister of _Christmas red_ paint. "Anyway, it's the Colonel's fault that he didn't specify." Desperate times had called for desperate measures, and the Perverted Trio had taken on a fourth (albeit slightly unwilling) member. Time was running short, and new, original ideas were growing thin and overused. Besides, four heads were better than three, right? "Right."

"Huh?"

"... Never mind."

_Stomp. Stomp. Stomp._

"Shh! Here he comes! Get ready! On three..." Fury peeked downwards through the slits in his fingers. Somehow, he did not remember Edward having so heavy a footstep, but considering the blonde alchemist was returning from a meeting with the Colonel, it was not all that surprising either.

"One..."

The door creaked open, exposing gloved hands and clenching a pink-tinged, perfume-drowned letter to Fury's limited view. '_Ara? A love letter? How cheesy. Like Edward-san would fall for that.'_

"Two..."

_'That's strange... I wonder when Edward got new gloves... they seem darker than usual... oh no. Stop, stop, STOP!' _"Wai-!"

_"THREE!"_

Fifteen gallons of glistening red paint poured gracefully upon the figure that appeared from below, dissolving the tacky evidence that had brought the poor Elric brother to the courtyard in the first place. The trio leaned over the side to laugh and claim their win, not noticing Fury slowly slipping into the shadows behind them.

"Take THAT you stupid, boot-licking, attention-grabbing run...t ..." Havoc trailed off, colour slowly draining from his face as a bull-red glow flickered to life in previously body-less eyes from not-so-far-down below.

"Oh, uh... Hi, Al."

-

_Colonel Mustang's Office - 2:15pm_

_... 1 day till Christmas_

-

"I order you to blush!"

"... No."

"Your Colonel is ordering you to blush!"

"... Still no."

-

_Colonel Mustang's Outer Office - 6:35 pm_

_... Happy Christmas!_

-

The desks were clean, polished and organized. The floor was swept, mopped, and given a little extra shine. The walls were hung with merry trimmings of green, red, and gold while a long table had been set up in the corner to hold the large bowls of egg nog, cider, and other festive treats. A Christmas tree, small enough to be stowed quickly out of sight should the Colonel choose to appear, sat merrily upon Hughes' makeshift desk. All in all, the room gave off a cheery, rosy glow.

Except for the five moping officers huddled around the small card table with little rain clouds above them, of course.

Seven days. Seven days! And not one had managed to even get the beginnings of a blush to form across the twerp's cheeks. Hawkeye busied herself with more decorations around the doorway while the five grumpy plotters huddled together. Colonel Mustang had wisely chosen to stay in his office all day, and the group took turns glaring at the only wreath-less spot in the room. The Colonel had won - again - as per the bet's rules; if no one managed to make Edward blush by the time the party started, all twenty dinner tickets would be promptly surrendered to him.

"Damn Colonel." Havoc declared, pounding scratched-up fists on the wobbly table.

"Damn Alchemists." Chimed in Breda, nursing his swollen lip.

"Damn Brat." Added Farman, carefully adding a fresh iced pack to his black eye.

"Stupid Fullmetal." Hissed Fury's bruised pride.

"I just want my camera back." Three and a half pairs of eyes turned to Hughes, who was busy muttering about evil military policies against any sort of photographic device in sensitive areas... like Colonel Mustang's office, for example. A new one was already on order, but he still missed his second baby. Too depressed about their own embarrassing attempts to strangle the Lieutenant Colonel, the four let the man live. For the moment, at least.

_Stomp. Stomp. Stomp._

Seats were quickly vacated as sounds of the approaching Elric brother grew louder. Hawkeye blinked as she came down from the tiny ladder and stood curiously in the doorway, wondering where everyone had gone.

_Stomp. Stomp. BANG!_

The innocent door was nearly ripped off its hinges as one (1) irate state alchemist fumed through the doorway. Curiously, his cheeks were somewhat tinted and he was wearing an overly-large santa hat. Five pairs of eyes blinked from behind various desks. _Huh?_

"COLONEL! What's this about a damn bet-!" Edward Elric's tirade was put on hold as two strong, yet femininearms gripped his shoulders and forced him into place. "Wha-?" Looking up... and up... his face paled as the slight pinkish tint to his cheeks got stronger. _'Oh fuck. Mistletoe.'_

"Ah, ah, ah! You can't move quite yet, Edward-kun!" Hawkeye bent at the hip, pressing her lips firmly upon the side of the young boy's mouth. "Happy Christmas, Edward."

Bright, blinding, Christmas Red Ed.

_Whirrrr... FLASH!_

Leaning smugly against the doorframe at the other end of the room, Colonel Roy Mustang lowered the camera from his eye to suitably smirk at his underling. "Happy Christmas, Fullmetal. My, you do look lovely tonight."

Blush and glare intensified until the poor fourteen-year-old could take no more. Turning swiftly upon his heel, Edward managed to grind out an eloquent, "Fuck you too, Colonel." Before kicking the door closed behind him.

The peons blinked again, wondering if the dream-sequence had finished yet. Mustang's voice cut through the dream-like state. "Time to pay up, fellas." Groaning and cursing, the five sore losers tossed their meal tickets at their leader. Last but not least Hawkeye came up, without tickets and holding her hand out expectantly. Grumbling, he reluctantly placed half the tickets in her hands. When the hand didn't retract, he added four more and a well-placed glare. Seriously, the woman was almost as deviously greedy as he was. Almost. _'Curses! I'll get you my pretty... and your little dog too!'_ "There. Happy Christmas, Lieutenant Hawkeye."

Hawkeye grinned. "Happy Christmas, _Taisa_." Getting the infamous Christmas-Hater Roy Mustang to actually show up at her annual Christmas party had not been as hard as she had thought.

All it had cost was an arm, a leg, and an Elric brother.

Owari.

_(For now...)_

-

_Authors' Note:_

_So it's six months(ish) after Christmas… Happy Christmas in July! (cough cough) Our biggest and most heartfelt thanks (and cookies!)go out to all you beautiful people who reviewed! Sneaky Wench #1 sends her sincerest apologies for being severely intimidated (and feeling severely loved) by the number of reviews and bribes received for her first fanfic ever. Sneaky Wench #2 has been glaring nonstop for the past few months, so your calls for more did not go unpunish-err…. Unnoticed. Yeah. That's it. We both promise that the next (few) stories will come out far faster (read: every other week or less) barring the death of Sneaky Wench #1. (Sneaky Wench #2's inconceivably unkillable… or so Sneaky Wench #2 proclaims.) For more, see our profile._

_Until next time…!_


End file.
